Thomas rose from his bed, panting. Blinking away the sleep, he looked around the room and sighed seeing his bedroom. Coming to a sitting position, he shook his head vigorously, trying to shake the nightmare from his addled brain. Since he found his way into Maze's bed, the nightmares ceased, but he knew it was only temporary. Each night he slept in his own bed, they returned with a vengeance. Tonight was no exception. Thomas ran a shaky hand down his face and exhaled. If he strained his hearing, he could hear the clink of hammers.

He hadn't told Maze about the nightmares, knowing she would worry about him and he didn't want her to fret. Reaching over blindly, he grabbed the opened bottle of whiskey sitting on the side table beside his bed. He tipped the bottle back, ignoring the tumbler sitting on the edge of the side table, and took a long swig of the amber liquid. He shuddered as the alcohol burned down his throat.

Slightly more clearheaded, Thomas set the bottle down and rose from the bed. Once he was dressed for the day, he ventured out of his lodging and squinted against an early morning sunlight. He turned his feet towards Maze's house, bypassing humans getting a start on their day. The full moon was close at hand and he could feel the wolf stirring under his skin. He hadn't called a Pack meeting in weeks and figured it was almost time for another one.

As he walked toward his sanctuary, he mulled over the events in his life. The deal to betrothed John to Zilpha Lee's daughter was successful. The wedding would take place in the next couple of weeks. He would have to invite Ada… if only he could find her. It would take some investigating, but he would find her. His proposed job offer to Grace benefitted him greatly. By hiring her, it would help him monitor her. He knew she wasn't trustworthy. Only time would tell if she was loyal to him or whatever agenda she had.

After Campbell's threat to his family, Thomas hadn't heard from the man, but knew Campbell lifted Stanley Chapman. All of Small Heath knew about the death of Stanley Chapman. A grocer found him dead in the center of town several days ago. Thomas learned from Polly that Freddie was still in town and that Chapman didn't give up any location. It seemed the good Inspector killed Chapman and left his body as a message.

It wasn't a message to Thomas. It was a message to the Communists.

He half expected a revolution from the Communists, but they stayed quiet.

When he arrived at Maze's, he didn't stop to admire the house, knowing each room. As he ventured closer, he looked around, making sure no one paid attention as he snuck around the back of the house to enter through the kitchen door. He'd have to tell Maze about hiring Grace as a secretary and that Grace kissed him in the church. He wasn't looking forward to either conversation.

"I've hired Grace as a secretary," Thomas said, coming into Maze's kitchen. He paused for a minute, watching her chop something on the large table in her kitchen. He could smell breakfast food cooking and couldn't help to appreciate the lack of clothing she wore when she was alone.

She stopped her chopping and looked up at him. "You did what?"

"You heard me."

"Yea, my ears work fine, but why?" she retorted.

"Arthur's been telling me she's asking questions," Thomas began, walking toward her, wanting to be close to her and placing his hands on her hips, drawing her close to him. He inhaled, breathing in her scent, and let it calm him. He wanted to wrap himself around her and let her take care of the aftereffects of his nightmare.

"You don't trust her," Maze offered, twisting in his arms to look at him.

"No, I don't, but she's here for a reason and I want to know that reason," he said, leaning forward and pressed a kiss on her lips. Maze responded by wrapping her arms around his neck and giving into the kiss.

"There's one more thing," he said, pulling away from her. He knew this part would anger her. Sitting down at the opposite side of the table, he waited as she sat a breakfast plate in front of him. There were a few minutes of silence that followed when he opted to tell her. "She kissed me."

"She did what?" Maze replied incredulously before anger replaced it. Her fingers itch towards the knife she was using.

"As much as I appreciate your homicidal tendencies, it didn't go anywhere. I told her that business and pleasure don't mix and left her sitting there alone," he replied, telling her the truth. If he hadn't given his explanation, there would be an injured secretary before the day was over.

"I still don't like her," Maze huffed.

"No one said you had to," Thomas replied with one more kiss before stabbing his fork in his eggs and taking a bite. He grabbed a peach out of the basket, much to her raised eyebrow, and continued to eat his breakfast while she chopped peaches. He wasn't sure how she got them, but he figured it was best he didn't ask.

"What's on your agenda today?" she asked a few minutes later.

Thomas said nothing, but raised an eyebrow, causing Maze to huff at him. "Just things to do."

Thomas was on a mission as he entered the Betting house an hour later. He opened the letter from Zilpha Lee, reading over it, and planned on writing her back. It pleased him to see the Zilpha agree to their terms of the upcoming marriage between her daughter and John. The date for the upcoming wedding would be next month. Her daughter wasn't informed of the decision, but the rest of the Lees must have agreed to the union.

He needed to end the engagement of Lizzie Stark and his brother quickly. He wouldn't tell Maze that he used Lizzie for pleasure since his arrival back home. It was in the past, and he wouldn't question her dalliances prior to their relationship. He growled quietly, thinking of the men, if there were any, that touched her body in passion. Now that he'd been between Maze's thighs, he wouldn't need another woman, ever. Entering the building he used to house the car, he sat down in the driver's seat and fixed his hat before getting the car ready to leave. Once he gave the crank a few turns, he left, searching for Lizzie Stark.

Thomas hadn't the foggiest idea of her schedule, but he needed to know what kind of woman Lizzie would be as a wife to his brother and mother to the children before he ruined the engagement.

"Lizzie!" he called, finally spotting her walking briskly down the sidewalk and towards wherever she needed to be. When she didn't respond to his call, he tried again. He tried for a friendlier voice, knowing their history.

"Hello Lizzie! The basket looks heavy. Jump in," he called out to her. An image of the last time he had a woman get into his car. It led him to Maze's bed, where she submitted to him.

"It is quite heavy!" she called back to him as she kept walking away from him. Something about this meeting wasn't settling well with her. Thomas wasn't known to be friendly or even to speak to her without fucking her.

"I heard you like kids," he began, keeping an eye on her and the road. He saw her turn her head and smile at him, "because John has four of them."

Lizzie instantly lost the bright smile she was shining as it turned into a frown. That bad feeling she felt intensified. Thomas saw the frown and quickly surmised she thought he was going to talk her out of marrying his brother. He might have said it, but his mission was to stop the impending marriage.

He opened the door and grabbed her basket from her before setting it in the back seat. He waited patiently for her to climb into the car and closed the door. Turning slightly to her, "I just want to talk, Lizzie."

"You're not against this?" she asked, hope and doubt mixed in her voice.

He shook his head at her, hoping to convey that he wasn't exactly opposed to his brother marrying. He wasn't opposed, but he didn't want the wife to be Lizzie Stark. Reaching into his trouser pocket, he pulled a small stack of bills from it and began flipping through them, counting.

"You and John are your own man and woman," he said, counting still. He briefly wondered how much it would take before her resolve crumbled. "You both can make your own decisions."

But he needed to test Lizzie. If she was sincere in marrying his brother, then the money he placed on the seat between them wouldn't tempt her. He inhaled slowly, trying to gauge her desperation and fear that slowly filtered around them.

"Now, Lizzie," he began, looking out toward the road, "Since I've returned from France, I've come to you on several occasions." This was their first meeting since he found his way into Maze's bed.

Lizzie felt her heart sink at his words. She feared Thomas would tell John about their meetings and it would ruin her future in seconds. Her heart rattled as her hopes dwindled.

"You haven't been to me in weeks," she mumbled, refusing to look at him. Then a thought plagued her as slight panic set in. "You didn't tell John about us, did you?" she asked desperately.

"No, I didn't tell him," Thomas assured her, placing another bill on the seat.

He knew the lure of money would be the woman's downfall. As a prostitute, she only made so much money a month and there were months when business was slow that she didn't make enough to keep her alive without taking on an extra customer. Thomas couldn't figure out why she never tried to find a suitable job. With many men off to war, the job market opened up for women to take on work.

"I could tell him, you understand?" Thomas said, turning to look at her quickly before glancing back at the road. He still would John, but wouldn't tell him everything. Thomas would leave that discovery to John.

He didn't see her face pale, but smelled the fear that was pouring off her in droves. It was intoxicating. Thomas suppressed a shudder.

"But you didn't tell him either," he countered. "Why didn't you?"

"Because," she sighed, "the past is the past and I don't want to remember the past. I have a future to look forward to. John is a good man, you know this."

"That was the answer I was hoping you'd give," Thomas said with relief. If she was serious, then the money and the history between them wouldn't matter. It surprised him she took a mature stance on it, but if he were a suspicious person, it would seem like she was hiding information.

"John has said you've changed and I believe him. Change is good for everyone, including me and you," he said, placing another bill on top of the already waiting two. "I wish both of you happiness," he said, placing a fourth bill down.

He could tell the money was changing her. The lure was getting stronger and her resolve weakening. He wondered again how much money it would take before she completely gave in. So far, he counted eight pounds sitting between them.

He turned his head to finally look at her. It enraged him that the woman in front of him wanted the money more. He was sure that Lizzie would be a good wife and mother to John, but even if they married, Thomas needed to know that Lizzie wouldn't go behind John's back to prostitute herself to anyone who threw money at her.

"Consider this as my wedding gift to you," he said, watching her hand slowly reach for the money. "And to fond farewells."

Thomas stared at her expectantly. His gaze conveying what he wanted from her. A part of him hated this because of Maze. She'd disapprove of his methods. Lizzie stared at him as understanding flooded her face. He wanted to see if she would service him one more time before marrying his brother. If all it took was a few bills to make her resolve to weaken, then he needed to know.

Lizzie understood what he was asking for, but she needed to hear the words. "You mean one last time between us?"

Her heart sank seeing him nod.

"Yes," he said. "One last time between us." When she didn't move to undo his trousers, he pressed her harder. "It's eight bloody pounds."

She looked around cautiously, seeing two young girls laughing and running past the car before picking up the money. While the money was good to last her for a while, one last fuck with Thomas was something she wanted.

John had asked her up front to marry him with no sexual favors. That alone attracted her to him, but fucking Thomas was different. She liked how he made her feel afterwards. Not as some prostitute, but a woman.

When she pocketed the money, Thomas turned away from her, expecting this. He actually hoped that Lizzie was steadfast in her wish to marry John, that she would tell him to fuck off and leave her be. No, John needed a good woman to run his house and take care of his children, not a whore who was easily swayed by a few pounds.

"Where shall we go?" Lizzie asked quietly, casting her eyes at him. "Back to my lodging?"

He said nothing to her. It wasn't even anger he was feeling anymore, but complete disappointment. He could hear the children in the street laughing as they played some game, the people talking in quiet tones as they passed the sitting car, and Lizzie's heartbeat as it pounded in her chest at what she was asking.

"So the past isn't the past," he said, his voice tinged with disappointment. "You can keep the money, Lizzie, but get out of my car."

"What? Tommy!" she cried, unsure of this change in his attitude toward her.

"Just get out of my car," he said again, ignoring her pleas.

"I do love him," she said, trying to get him to change his mind about the upcoming marriage.

"If you loved him, you wouldn't have taken the money," he stated, not looking at her. "My brother might make his own decisions, but I will tell him the facts."

Anger flooded her at his words. "Your brother is ten times the man you are," she spat, slapping at him.

Thomas knew this. Even Arthur was a better man than he. The only time Thomas felt like a better man was when he was around Maze.

Angrily, she opened the car door and grabbed her basket of goods before storming away from him. He didn't watch her leave, but kept staring out at the world, contemplating her words.

Chester Campbell hurried through the museum. He received an urgent missive from his informant, demanding a visit to update him. He pushed past a wandering couple, his actions frantic. His biggest fear was that they had discovered his informant as a spy and the entire operation was ruined.

He found her standing alone, with a white pamphlet in her hands. No pleasantries were necessary. Their time was limited.

"He's not stupid as I presumed," Campbell grumbled, coming to stand beside her. "All we found was tobacco and whiskey."

"You didn't remove them?" she asked, her voice urgent.

"Of course not," Campbell soothed Grace's nerves. "I'd never endanger you like that."

They walked away from their spot as he slipped his arm between hers as if escorting her around the museum. Their actions wouldn't raise suspicions.

"I've been working on Arthur because he's easier," she explained in a quiet tone. "He's not as smart as Thomas, and more willing to talk."

Campbell made a humming noise under his breath at her assessment of Arthur Shelby. Their walk ended at a statue where Grace had to gall to pull her arm from him.

"Thomas has promoted me," she said, glancing at her boss. "He wants me as a bookkeeper and secretary."

"A cut throat gangster with a secretary," Campbell said in disbelief. "The pretensions of the hoodlums is quite breathtaking, isn't it?" he asked, hoping that Grace shared his views on these low life scum.

"Yes, breathtaking," Grace murmured wistfully, walking off from Campbell.

Campbell frowned at her actions. There was something wrong with Grace today. The last time he'd seen her, her position on the Shelbys was of disgrace, and now she acted like a smitten schoolgirl. This did not settle well with him.

"It sounds like he's fallen for you," Campbell noticed.

Playing along as if in some fantasy of her own making, Grace kept up her act. "I thought you'd be pleased," she said, remembering Thomas's rebuff of her kiss a few nights ago. She realized in her heart that he didn't want her, but she was determined to keep at it, hoping that Thomas would fall for her charms.

Campbell frowned again. "Ju—just don't forget who he is and who you are. The difficulty with undercover work Grace is remembering who you are. You're a cop, not some smitten barmaid."

"I am a barmaid," she retorted angrily, before walking away from him.

Chester watched her walk away and thought over her words. If he were Thomas Shelby, God forbid, he would have suspicions. It helped their case that Grace snagged the gangster, but he had a feeling that Thomas didn't trust Grace. It was hard to be undercover and keep your lies as truth.

He wondered how many times she had slipped up? Giving away just enough information that Thomas Shelby would see right through her lies. Campbell conceded Thomas was smart and most likely saw through any lies that Grace concocted.

This warranted further watching.

After his conversation with Lizzie Stark ended on a sour note, Thomas took the car back to the garage. Parking it, he left it there for whomever needed it. He needed to tell John what transpired, but didn't know how to break it to his hopeful brother that the woman John wished to marry would have fucked his older brother in a heartbeat.

He could be blunt about it and tell him truthfully, although it would hurt his younger brother. Then he remembered the arrangement he made with Zilpha Lee to marry her daughter to John. Thomas reasoned Esme would be the better of the two women that could marry John. At least with Esme, John wouldn't have to worry about her fucking other men for money.

The next afternoon, he found John polishing the car. From his walk in, it seemed that John wanted something from him. Thomas stopped in his path as John spotted him.

"I need a favor," John said, wiping his hands on the towel, not giving Thomas a chance to speak. "I want to borrow the car to take Lizzie and the kids on a drive to the country to celebrate getting the license."

"Not a problem," Thomas replied, knowing it wasn't as much of a favor as it was giving John the right to use the family car. "I know you're my brother, and there's something I need to tell you."

John backed away from his brother, understanding this conversation would not be pleasant. "Yesterday, I asked Lizzie to have a seat in the front seat of that car. I offered her money, John."

John's heart sank at the notion that his own brother could offer his fiancee money to service him. Anger rose in him, clouding his judgement, but he listened to Thomas, regardless.

"John," Thomas said quietly, "she said yes."

John paused the wiping down of the bonnet of the car and stared at his reflection in the shiny metal. His eyes flashed hearing that his fiancee would fuck his brother for a pile of money. That she would willingly betray him after claiming she wanted to marry him infuriated him. He couldn't tell if he was angry with Thomas for offering her the money or angry with Lizzie for accepting.

"You can take that information how you want. You could take her to the country, marry her, but the truth is there. Lizzie said yes." Thomas reached into his trouser pocket and retrieved the keys, setting them down on the bonnet before walking away.

John remained frozen, his hands on the car as his fingers curled into the towel he'd been using to make the vehicle shine. He half listened as his older brother shuffled away, leaving him to his thoughts. John resisted the urge to punch the car in anger. How could Lizzie have done this to him?

If he was honest with himself, he probably should have seen it coming. By Thomas's words, he suspected his brother had been a customer of Lizzie's. He didn't know how long and while the past was the past; they lived in the present and presently his veins throbbed in anger.

It wouldn't be enough that the Shelbys were far better off than most of the people that lived in Small Heath, but if she accepted cash from Thomas knowing that she wouldn't have to work another day in her life, what was to say that she wouldn't take money during their marriage?

He had to ask her. Had to know her side of the story before he decided. John tossed the dirty towel on the front seat of the car, grabbed the keys, and walked out.

Thomas's relationship with Maze blossomed once he came clean with her. If he could have moved into her house, he would have, but that would require a wedding band. Taking care of not being seen sneaking out of her house at five am, he gave a sharp nod to Jimmy, who arrived to monitor Maze when she left the property.

He would not take chances of Campbell or his other enemies getting their hands on her. He rolled his neck, slipping a cigarette between his lips as he tucked his head down to walk briskly down the street towards Watery Lane. It didn't surprise him that his family had said nothing about his coming and going.

Thomas had his brothers believing it was Grace he was interested in, despite her kissing him a few weeks ago. It wasn't hard to fool them, letting them think his interest in Grace was genuine. His rebuff of her hadn't been brutal, but it was honest. Every time he saw her, he could tell she was waiting for him to give her an assignment. Her eyes tracked him each time he stepped foot into the pub. Part of it unnerved him, knowing that he was being watched. Thomas needed to test Grace, to see if she could handle a simple job before he gave her something difficult to do. John's wedding was soon at hand. It was an easy enough task.

He decided that her first assignment from him would be to track down Ada to give her an invitation to the wedding. He would not risk Maze or himself giving Ada the invitation. Maze would give her the invitation, no questions asked, but he didn't want that. Polly would take care of the task and do so as discreetly as possible, but he would have to explain to her why she was delivering a wedding invitation to Ada when Lizzie was the supposed bride.

Slipping into his lodging, he closed the door quietly and removed his hat. For the first time since his arrival home, he was well rested and content. Being in Maze's bed after a round of lovemaking kept the nightmares away, but he knew it would only be temporary. He watched the sunrise from the curtained window before preparing himself for another day.

His first stop of the day would be to see his solicitor to write up a contract of employment for Grace. It was the first one, and he hoped it wouldn't be his last. As he walked to the solicitor's, he decided he needed to start his own company. He would have a sit down with the solicitor and see what could be done. It would be the first step into legitimacy that he wanted for his family. Legal money on the surface while peddling illegal activity under the table.

Once Thomas explained to the solicitor what he wanted to do about starting his own company, the man was eager to help, especially when Thomas added a monetary bonus. The solicitor informed Thomas the paperwork would be done swiftly. He didn't think he needed family votes for this.

Instead of going back to Maze's house for dinner, he thought best to get the invitation sent to Ada through Grace. He knew where his sister would be at certain times of the week. That evening, as the sun was setting, Thomas walked into the Garrison. In his trouser pocket, he had his solicitor's contract of employment. Since Kimber gave him the contract for the legal betting pitch for the racecourses, Thomas reasoned he needed a legal front beside the pub.

As he walked inside, he noted how quiet it was. Fishing out his pocket watch, he noted many men would arrive within the hour. It didn't miss his attention how amenable Grace was that evening. He kept the conversation light during their drink before serious conversation would start. After having a drink with Grace, he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a folded sheet of paper and set it down on the bar top.

"What's this?" she asked with a wide smile.

"A contract of employment," he said, reaching for the bottle of whiskey and pouring himself another drink while she looked at it.

"Bookkeeper for Shelby Brothers Limited," she read, smiling as she picked up the paper. Inside, she squealed like a young girl.

"I don't like the word…. limited," he muttered, sipping his whiskey before reaching for a cigarette.

"To be respectable, you must be limited," she joked lightly, tossing an abandoned towel to the side.

Thomas scoffed lightly, shaking his head at her. She had no clue about the business world, and it wasn't his job to inform her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed abruptly, ending his woolgathering. "I had a telephone installed." She pointed toward the office, hoping he'd be pleased with her initiative.

He looked toward the back of the pub with disinterest. Telephones weren't common, being quite new and expensive. It made him wonder why she had one installed. From his brief ventures into the future with Maze, he understood the necessity of telephones for quicker communications, but this wasn't the future. It wasn't hard to find him if something went bad.

Grace continued to smile. It didn't upset her he refused her kiss, but being in his presence with all his attention on her kept her happy, at least for now. She could wait until he was ready for the next step in a relationship with her.

"Since we're celebrating," she said, reaching underneath the bar and pulling out a bottle of champagne, "I had this delivered from Rackham's department store."

He wasn't sure how to accept the bottle of champagne or understand her actions. Grace was his employee and today her attitude wasn't settling well with him. He glanced at the label on the bottle and was impressed that she bought an expensive bottle, but this wasn't the opportune moment to celebrate with champagne.

"Will you open it?" she asked, hoping he would share a drink with her besides the occasional glass of whiskey.

"No," he said, setting the bottle down on the bar top with an audible clunk. "Save it for a special occasion."

Grace hid her disappointment that her becoming his employee wasn't special enough to open the bottle of champagne.

"Your first job is," he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out an envelope. "Is to get this to my sister."

"You don't see her?" Grace asked, flicking her eyes up at him. Finding Ada Thorne would give her the opportunity to find Freddie Thorne and report back to Campbell. But she had to be sneaky about it. If Thomas caught wind of her duplicity…. she shuddered to think what would happen to her.

"No one does," he said, omitting the fact that Maze and Polly visit frequently. "She's hiding from me."

He inhaled sharply, keeping his hands busy. "I was told she goes to a bathhouse on Montague Street on women's only day. She goes in with a disguise, so I need someone on the inside."

He didn't enjoy handing this off to Grace because of Ada and her connections to the Communists. It wouldn't help his case if the coppers found Freddie before Thomas could throw him out of town. It would have felt nice to hand deliver the invitation to her.

"What am I delivering?" Grace asked quietly.

Thomas wet his lips, contemplating his next words. He didn't trust Grace to know it was a wedding invite. She might arrive at the wrong conclusion.

"It's an invitation to a family gathering, and I want her there. Tell her it will be a truce." He explained. It would be a truce. That day was a day that no one would be fighting.

"Am I to deliver bait to a trap?" Grace asked, wondering if this was legal or illegal.

Part of him couldn't believe the gall she had to ask questions about the instructions given. The less a person knew, the safer they were. It was one of the few rules he had when dealing with the unsavory parts of his life.

He needed to set the rules down hard and fast. "IF you read that contract, you'll find there isn't anywhere that says anything about asking questions."

Grace wanted to bristle at his tone. This wasn't the Thomas Shelby who danced with her at Cheltenham nor sat with her at the church. This was someone else. Campbell had warned her about this man. The one that would cut her throat if she dared looked at him wrong.

It didn't please her, but she pushed her fear and worry down. She knew he carried a fondness for her that prevented him from doing anything hurtful towards her. He didn't seem the type of man that would harm a woman. If she wanted into his organization to dive deep into his world, then she would keep her thoughts and questions to herself... for now.

"Just give her the invitation," he ordered, turning around to pick up his coat. "And put that in the cupboard."

She watched him, her pride hurt that he would speak to her the way he did. Her heart swore he cared more about her than he let on. Grace sighed and picked up the bottle of champagne. Maybe he treated all his employees this way. That would have to change. She looked down at the employment contract and read over the terms.

Picking up a pen she found in the office, she scrawled her name at the bottom of the contract. She was in, but she didn't know how long for.

The stairs creaked as Thomas walked up towards the second floor to his one bedroom flat. Listening for any noises, he paused hearing one. Looking around, he saw no one. Closer he crept to the door to his place, and paused hearing noises coming from inside. Someone was inside his lodging. Quickly, he retrived his gun and cocked it before placing his hand on the door to push it open, ready to shoot whomever was inside.

He pushed the door open; the door hitting the wall with a loud bang. His gun was ready when he found John standing there by the small fireplace. In his hand, John was holding his opium pipe.

"Bloody fucking hell, John," he muttered, lowering his gun to shove it back in the holster. "What are you doing here?"

"I can't get the fucking thing lit!" he muttered angrily. "Can't even do that right."

Thomas looked at his brother, and he sighed seeing him. The facts about Lizzie Stark rattled John enough that he snuck into Thomas's lodging. It honored and humbled him that his brother could come to him like this, even though he was the one to deliver the bad news.

"What are you trying to smoke that for?" Thomas asked, coming into the room and closing the door.

"Same reason as you," John spat. "Pain in the head."

Thomas shuffled his feet, placing his hands on his hips as he watched John pace around the small room. His hands gripped the opium pipe as if it were a lifeline. John sat down heavily on the worn bed, his hands twisting around the pipe.

"I spoke to Lizzie," he began quietly, refusing to look at his brother. "I told her what you told me. She said that you're a dirty liar. Then," he paused, looking down at the pipe. "I spoke to her sister and cousin, buying them a couple of drinks. You know, loosen the lips a little."

Thomas stayed silent, watching his younger brother tear at the seams. It had been hell on John when Martha died, leaving him with four children to raise with no knowledge of how to do so. His younger brother still suffered even though he had help from Polly and Maze with the children.

"Just a few regulars, they said, that's all. To keep the…." he swallowed hard, his chuckle dark, his eyes flashing quickly. "to keep the 'wolves' from her door." he sniffed loudly. "You must think I am an idiot," he spat, his anger growing as he explained to Thomas was transpired.

Thomas crossed the room and sat down on the bed beside his brother. He didn't wish to have told John about Lizzie, but he couldn't let his brother marry her without knowing if she would be the right woman to stay faithful and keep his house in order instead of providing services to her regulars.

It was his job to protect his family and his Pack regardless if they wanted it or not. The truth always hurts, but the pain of someone lying left scars. His own heart ached for his brother, but he knew that once John saw reason, he would be happy with the decision to marry Zilpha's daughter.

Thomas wasn't the one to sugarcoat information to keep someone happy. He wasn't the one to sit around and pour out his emotions. "I think you're the first Shelby in history to have a legal betting license." John scoffed, turning his head from his brother. "What would granddad say? He'd be turning in his grave by now."

John didn't understand where Thomas was going with this, but he held on.

"Honest bloody money," Thomas imitated their grandfather, causing John to chuckle. In this house? Here?"

"You always used to do voices when we were kids," John chuckled, wiping his mouth as Thomas turned away at the mention of their childhood.

"We're not kids anymore, John," Thomas mumbled.

"But we still look out for each other, right?"

Thomas placed his hand on the back of John's head in affection. "Yea, we do. Come on, go home and get some sleep," he instructed, rising to his feet.

As he watched John walk out of his lodging, Thomas didn't feel bad for telling him about Lizzie ruining her chance at becoming a married woman, but he knew John would be all right.